


can i try again (try again try again)

by floraal



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: :(, Angst, Break Up, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Miya Atsumu-centric, Pining, Possibly Unrequited Love, Sad Miya Atsumu, atsumu is very insecure and very in love, character study kinda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:28:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26007259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/floraal/pseuds/floraal
Summary: "A heavy weight settles in his chest. It spreads throughout his body. In his hands, in his bones, and in his blood. His Shouyou, the love of his life, is the cause of his trembling soul."or, it's the night before Shouyou comes back from Brazil and Atsumu reflects.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Miya Atsumu
Comments: 5
Kudos: 46





	can i try again (try again try again)

**Author's Note:**

> tbh i just really needed hurt atsumu pining over hinata in brazil out of my system.

In hindsight, maybe Atsumu should’ve seen it coming.

Granted, Atsumu didn’t want to look at the facts. He refused to acknowledge the signs and the red flags, and just pretend, for a little while longer, that they were fine.

When Osamu stopped teasing him for being clingy and instead whispered “It’s okay, it’s okay,” as if Atsumu was going to break at any second. When he used to be spammed with texts telling him every single detail of his day until they dwindled down into one worded reactions. If he was lucky, maybe he’d get a good morning text here and there, but it was mostly Atsumu filling up their messages with random anecdotes and questions about the other's time in Brazil, burying the uninterested replies in the sea of one-sided conversations. When the video calls came few and far between, until they were practically non-existent. He remembers how hard it stung closing Bokuto’s bathroom door, knuckles gripped white on the handle after hearing a cheerful “Happy birthday Bokuto-san!” coming from the laptop in the other room. Atsumu hadn’t heard from him that whole week.

It’s been six months since Shouyou let Atsumu go. It’s twelve hours until Shouyou’s plane lands in Tokyo and here lies Atsumu, staring black holes into the ceiling and counting the seconds past. He’s completely numb. He’s inside a body that’s not his anymore (that belongs to Shouyou), in a room where light moves in slivers, in an apartment where the dishes catch dust in the cupboards and the living room resembles more like a morgue. Another minute passes and Atsumu feels like he’s a corpse wasting away on the death bed that once was a haven of solace. He closes his eyelids and there he sees fleeting memories within his grasp and it plays like a film he’s watched a hundred times but his brain can’t help but latch on to them as if it is the first time he’s seen it. 

_“I should’ve pushed him more!” He pulled at his hair, bloodshot eyes frantically darting everywhere in the room. His brother struggled to keep his hands still. “Maybe if I had reached out we could’ve worked something out!”_

_“It’s not yer fault ‘Tsumu,” Osamu cradled his shoulders into a hug, pressing Atsumu into his chest. “Ya did everything ya could.”_

_Atsumu’s struggling gasps flooded the room._

_“I,” Osamu hesitated, “never expected Shouyou to be this way.”_

_Atsumu crumbled in his brother’s arms._

The weeks following their last phone call were admittedly the hardest days Atsumu has ever experienced. The pitying glances from his teammates and the gossip among friend groups were weak in comparison to the sleepless nights where Atsumu was left to his own vices, hopping over discarded clothes and huddling in sheets that were far too thin. They were nights of remembering Shouyou’s arms around his, Shouyou’s lips pressing a kiss onto his forehead, and Shouyou’s whispered _goodnight’s_ and _I love you’s_ before Atsumu drifted off to sleep. His voice played like a broken record in Atsumu’s mind, replaying and rewinding the timbre of each spoken affirmation like counting sheep.

It hurt especially more sneaking into the gym and smacking volleyballs against the wall with all the force he had, distracting himself from the hollowness inside him and simply going through the motions. But Atsumu sees Shouyou in everything. He sees him everywhere. He sees him trailing behind him, holding a volleyball and insisting just a few more tosses. He sees him in the changing room, knee in between his thighs pushing him against the lockers with busy hands and a hunger in his eyes. He sees him running towards the little boys struggling to bump a Mikasa ball in the park across the street and smiling as he demonstrates the perfect receive. He sees him for who he is. This is the person who has him utterly entranced, taken aback with his beauty. In awe of his talent and spirit. This is the person who had once embraced him with everything he had. 

_“I don’t understand,” his voice quivered. “What did I do? What did I do wrong?”_

_“You didn’t do anything. It was me, it was all me,” Shouyou’s voice was monotone as he said it. It was so unfamiliar, unrecognizable, Atsumu didn’t know who he was talking to anymore._

_“But why?” Atsumu’s voice cracked, a high pitched noise pierced into his ears until the room was completely quiet and the only noise emitting into the air was the white noise coming from Shouyou’s end and the rapid beating of his heart._

_“D-do you still love me?”_

_Six beats pass._

_“I’m so sorry Atsumu-san-”_

_Atsumu wasn’t able to hear the rest of what he said. There was a roaring in his ears and his eyes blurred from the steady stream of tears pooling out. A heavy weight settles in his chest. It spreads throughout his body. In his hands, in his bones, and in his blood. His Shouyou, the love of his life, is the cause of his trembling soul._

_It must’ve been comical,_ Atsumu thinks, hearing his voice shatter over the phone as he begged Shouyou why, why, _why?_ Atsumu looked back at the entirety of their relationship and he can’t pinpoint where he went wrong. Where exactly did Shouyou decide he had enough of Atsumu? That he was no longer interesting enough, no longer endearing enough, no longer worth another minute of his time?

It’s humiliating because all this time, all this time Atsumu had been patient. He brushed off the emotionless texts as him being busy. He never blew up the other’s phone with phone calls demanding at least one, just one call back. He never forced Shouyou to talk to him because if he wanted to, he would. And he didn’t. That alone makes the heavy weight in his chest pull him down into a river of desperation. He grabs the water bottle on his night stand and downs it in one go. Something catches his eye and he hesitates a bit before he turns to switch the fairy lights over his bed frame on.

_“Can you hold this end so that it doesn’t get tangled?” Shouyou handed him the tail end of the fairy lights and tapes the wire to his wall, bending some areas a certain way until he got the look that he wanted. “Perfecto!” He cheered before jumping off the bed to turn off the ceiling lights._

_Atsumu motioned to turn on the switch of the battery box before Shouyou yelled at him to stop._

_“We have to get the ambiance right first,” he declared right as he switched the lights off and the entire room became dark._

_“What? But I wanna see how they look,” Atsumu whined._

_“We don’t get the full experience unless the room is completely dark.” Atsumu smiled at that. He noticed the curtains were letting in a tiny sliver of moonlight, so the blond reached out to his window and shut them closed._

_He felt someone grasp his hand and Atsumu blinked a few times to adjust his eyes to the dark before he fully focused on Shouyou’s face. Shouyou pressed a light kiss to his shoulder. Atsumu rubbed circles on his lover’s hand as he switched the fairy lights on. Immediately, his room lit up in a warm glow, softly illuminating Shouyou’s entire body and all Atsumu could think about was how lucky, oh how lucky he was to be right here._

_Shouyou grabbed him softly by his collar and pushed him into his sheets, enveloping his lips into a slow, deep kiss._

The glow only reminds him of what he didn’t have anymore.

He wants to pick apart every single flaw, every single ugly part of himself that could’ve made him feel that way. He wants to discard any piece of himself that he deems unworthy, roll it up into a ball and crush it underneath his shoe because even in his weakened state, Atsumu just wants Shouyou to want him back.

It’s always this. The insecurity that Atsumu just feels a little bit more, just loves a little bit harder, and in the past he thought of it as nothing because Atsumu’s Atsumu and Shouyou is _Shouyou._ But now he saw it for what it was. A knife to his side. The perpetrator laughs at him in mockery because this is how these things naturally progress. You did this to yourself.

And so Atsumu felt resentment. Soul-shattering, crippling resentment against Brazil, against Shouyou, against himself. How could he be so sure, in a country miles and miles away, that he didn’t want anything to do with him anymore? When Atsumu had been so kind, so loving, so understanding? When Atsumu watched the love of his life run off to another country and leave him behind with nothing but a promise that he’ll call him every day? Atsumu never wanted Shouyou to leave his immediate side, but God forbid he get in the way between Shouyou and the world. God forbid he do anything so selfish as to hold Shouyou back. So he bid his lover farewell, hugging him so tight that maybe it’d be enough for him to stay. Atsumu watched him leave, hands in his pockets and knees threatening to give out. Be safe out there, Shouyou. I’ll be waiting for you when you get back.

Atsumu just did what any lovesick man would’ve done.

Then he waited. 

He waited until the calls became sparse. Until he was up in the lonely hours of the night waiting for Shouyou to reach out to him. He waited until his mind was plagued with self-loathing. Until he was losing parts of himself and concluded Shouyou must’ve taken them with him. Until he was afraid of simply asking how his day went because he didn’t know if that was his place anymore. Until he was walking around with a heavy heart and a sense of longing he hadn’t felt in seven years. Until he was finally able to admit to himself that no, they were not fine. They haven’t been fine for months. He waited so long that he faded from Shouyou’s memory.

Even still, Atsumu wants him. He wants him more than anything he’s ever wanted in his life. More than volleyball, more than gold medals, more than any scrap of pride he has left of himself. Because he’s Atsumu, and Shouyou is _Shouyou,_ and Atsumu loves him with everything in him. This is just how the world naturally progresses.

In his hardest moments, when he’s fallen to the ground feeling completely broken, his love for Shouyou shines as bright as ever. It is the force that pieces him back together and encourages him to keep going. He withstood all the months of pain and feeling so unwanted because of the one chance that Shouyou will come back to him.

Atsumu still hopes for Shouyou. Wishes on the sun and the stars that one day, Shouyou will come back home, and Atsumu will love him more fearlessly than ever before. This alone is what drives him. This is the solace he’s kept hidden between his clasped hands, and for that, he will continue, continue, _continue._

He often imagined scenarios of how his and Shouyou’s first encounter back will go. Maybe it’ll be at the airport, a surprised face watching him as he walks to Shouyou head held high. Maybe it’ll be at the gym, a ball passed to him so that he could toss to Shouyou just like how it was before. Maybe it’ll be at his welcome back party, waiting for him to join him at the balcony. Sometimes there’s a drink in his hands, sometimes he’s smoking a joint passed to him a while ago, sometimes there’s nothing but his fingernails carving out crescents into his palm until they draw blood. There are no stars in the Tokyo night sky, but the streetlights illuminate the streets below and there is a slight breeze blowing through the wisps of tangerine hair. Tan skin shimmers underneath the skylight in the corner of his eye and the sight distracts him from the muffled music playing overhead and the storm brewing inside his heart. His love’s body turns to fully face him. 

When the apology is ready on Shouyou’s lips, Atsumu will stop him.

And he’ll tell Shouyou, “It’s okay, it’s okay.”

_I love you enough for the both of us._

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading <3


End file.
